


stabbed.

by seekrest



Series: febuwhump 2020. [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter has a hard time, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony helps him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: Just like before, Peter was a second too late.He heard the scuffle when he was swinging, his senses screaming at him that something was wrong but knowing in a way that he can't explain that the danger wasn't towards him but for someone else.Peter swings even harder, his heart starting to race when he focuses his hearing on the words of the men in front of him - hearing the panicked pleas from someone else as he tries as hard as he can to swing faster.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: febuwhump 2020. [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619581
Comments: 23
Kudos: 155





	stabbed.

Just like before, Peter was a second too late. 

He heard the scuffle when he was swinging, his senses screaming at him that something was wrong but knowing in a way that he can't explain that the danger wasn't towards him but for someone else.

Peter swings even harder, his heart starting to race when he focuses his hearing on the words of the men in front of him - hearing the panicked pleas from someone else as he tries as hard as he can to swing faster.

"Please man, don't--"

Peter doesn't hear the end of it, only the sound of a pained grunt - his heart skipping a beat when he realized that he was too late, turning the corner just as the man with a knife pulls it out of the guy he was robbing, the blood from the man still all over it.

"Hey!" Peter yells, acting on instinct - the thief, the _murderer_ Peter's mind supplies as he quickly pushes it away - not wanting to believe that he was too late - turning around only for Peter to move forward with a quick punch, knocking him out as the knife is thrown from his hand.

Peter stares at the thief, wondering for a second if he hit him too hard only to hear his heartbeat - quickly turning his attention back to the other man, his stomach dropping when Peter realizes that he's gasping, his hands trying and failing to clutch at his midsection.

Peter immediately kneels down, putting his hands on the entry point saying, "Karen, call 911. Make sure they have an ambulance."

His voice sounds more confident than he feels, the man's face quickly turning a ghostly shade of pale as he turns his attention to him.

"Hey, hey man. You're okay, you're gonna be okay." Peter says, hoping that he sounds assuring even as a small wave of panic washes over him as the man wheezes.

"Sp'dr-Man?"

"Yeah, yeah it's me. It's me, I'm here. I'm right here." Peter says, Karen's readout on his mask only confirming his worst fears as he glances down to the wound.

"Karen, has it hit anything bad?"

"The entry point has appeared to have hit his liver and knicked his spleen." Karen says almost forlornly, Peter's panicking rising as he tries to make sense of the sudden change in inflection - more glad than ever that no one can hear her voice other than him.

But the man seems keenly aware of Peter's question, his mind racing at trying to figure out how to phrase his next one in a way that will give him answers while still calming him to prevent any further bleeding.

"How far out are EMS from here?" Peter chooses to ask, seeing something flicker in the man's eyes - a look that Peter recognizes all too well as Karen replies.

"They are about nine minutes out, Peter. There is a roadblock that is preventing them from accessing your location as quickly as possible."

Peter inhales sharply, the worry of how long that would be and how long the man has only for Karen to answer the question he can’t bring himself to ask.

"Survival chances without immediate medical attention stand at less than 5%, Peter."

"Can I move him?" Peter whispers, knowing it's the wrong thing to say but wondering what else was possible - the panic starting to bubble up as his mind starts to go back towards another night where he'd had his hands pressed down on someone else's waist, hoping for help that he knew was going to be too late to come.

"I would not recommend it, Peter. His survival rate significantly decreases if you do." Karen says, Peter taking a shuddering breath as she continues. "I'm sorry."

Peter shakes his head at that, knowing Karen couldn't really see it and seeing the man's gaze shift to something that looks more like resolve, shaking his own head as he wheezes, "I'm-- I'm not gonna make it am I?"

"You're gonna be fine." Peter says harshly, immediately regretting his tone but too terrified of the alternative as he says, "You'll be okay. Just-- just focus on me okay? Focus on me."

Peter can feel the beginnings of a panic attack starting to creep all over him - the familiar chill in his spine and the crawling, jittery feeling in his arms and hands that threatens to bowl him over.

But it's not about Peter right now, swallowing that down as hard as he possibly can as he asks, "What's your name, man?"

"B-Brian." The man gasps, Peter smiling under the mask as he nods his head.

"Nice to meet you, Brian. I'm Spider-Man."

Brian gives him a small smile before coughing, the rattle of it further setting off Peter's anxiety only to see the blood start to trickle out of it.

"Where you from Brian? You from Brooklyn?" Peter asks, looking around to see if there was anyone that could possibly help them.

Unlike any other night in the city, unlike any other time he's ever patrolled this particular street - it feels almost empty, Peter knowing that it couldn't possibly be the case but was likely a result of his own encroaching tunnel vision - Brian's chest starting to rise and fall more rapidly as he rasps, "Q-Queens."

"Queens?" Peter's voice breaks, watching in horror as Brian's eyes start to glaze and go out of focus, wishing for some small mercy in the universe as he says, "Me too, me too. Been there my whole life."

Brian doesn't even seem to register that Peter has said anything, his eyes shifting away from him and towards the sky - Peter leaning forward as he presses down harder on the wound, the dark red intermixing with his suit in a way that he tries not to think about.

"Hey, hey look at me. Look at me, come on, Brian. Talk to me. You got a family?"

Brain's wheeze is wet and guttural, his eyes fluttering as he says, "Mart'n."

"Martin? Is that your boyfriend? Husband?"

Brian nods almost imperceptibly, eyes glancing away from the sky above them and back to Peter - saying words that he already knew in his heart but only serve to deepen the sinking feeling in his gut.

"Son." He wheezes, seemingly putting all his effort into speaking what Peter fears are his last words as he says, "He's my--my son."

Peter can feel the hot tears forming underneath his mask, nodding his head furiously as he says, "Martin's a great name, how old is he? He got a birthday coming up? Spider-Man does parties you know."

Peter's words have the intended effect, a ghost of a smile on Brian's face as he lets out something that sounds like a garbled laugh, choking on the blood in the back of his throat as it comes out of his mouth.

Peter feels helpless, more helpless than he's felt in years - his mind racing back to another moment in his life when he'd held the man that he'd loved most in the world and watched as the life literally bled out of his eyes - seeing that same look in Brian's eyes.

"You gotta hang on, Brian. For Martin." Peter says, his voice thick and the sob building in the back of his throat, Brian's face relaxing in a way he's all too familiar with.

"Tell--please--please tell--" Brian begins, coughing more violently as Peter shakes his head.

"You'll tell him yourself. You can-- you're gonna be okay." The tears are falling down his cheeks now, his vision blurring under the mask as Brian shakes his head one last time.

"Tell him--love him."

Peter presses down further on the wound, hands shaking as he leans in closer - making a split-second decision as he says, "Karen, black out mode."

He sees the flash of something emanate off his suit, glad that Tony's overprotective tendencies and his own penchant for getting hurt had allowed for this awful moment - knowing that he'd never forgive himself if he allowed this man to die without looking at him - without giving him the decency of making sure that the last person's eyes this man saw wasn't his murderer.

Peter rips off the mask, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he searches Brian's face - feeling the horror crawl over him that Brian doesn't even seem to register that he's without it, blinking lazily back at him.

Peter nods as he brings a tentative hand to his cheek, recognizing now that the pressure he was applying to his wound was useless as he whispers, "I'll tell him. I _promise_ ," Peter's voice wavers. "I'll tell him."

Brian's eyes flicker with some recognition for a brief, horrifying second and then he stops - a choking sound that's the most familiar, awful sound that Peter has ever heard.

It breaks him, his soul feeling like it's being obliterated in a thousand tiny pieces but he holds Brian's gaze - watching as his eyes turn glassy, his whole body shuddering as Brian's chest stops moving - knowing even without Karen speaking into his ear that he's gone.

Peter can't hold back the sob now, hands shaking as he reaches a hand to close Brian's eyes - closing his own as he listens for the heartbeat that he knows isn't there, the only sound in the alleyway being the steady breathing of Brian's murderer and the thunderous beating of his own heart.

Peter knows he should reach for his mask, knows that he should end blackout mode so that when the cops and paramedics arrive - useless as they might be - that they're able to find them with ease.

But Peter can gather from hearing the sirens in the distance that he still has a few minutes before they come, letting the grief wash over him - the horror of what he'd witnessed and the overwhelming guilt that for a second time in his life, he'd been too late to save someone.

* * *

Peter hears the familiar whine of the pulsars ten minutes before they ever arrive, the potential panic attack he'd successfully staved off now feeling more like residual adrenaline - his hands shaking like they had before but his whole sense of self feeling numb, staring off into the distance without his mask.

His legs are dangling over a building's edge - somewhere far and high away enough from where Brian had died that no one could see him, a part of Peter not even caring if anyone would - feeling more useless and hopeless than he's felt in years.

He'd failed Brian, had been a half-second too late to stop it and now all Peter could think of was a little boy somewhere in Queens - waiting for the father that would never come home again.

When the Iron Man suit finally lands, Peter doesn't even look up - hearing Tony's soft steps behind him.

Tony doesn't say anything, hesitating for a beat before mirroring Peter's stance - sitting down beside him and looking out towards the city.

Peter continues to stare out into nothing, feeling everything and nothing at once - the only thing filling the silence between them being the normal hum of the city.

It was awful to consider, an awful and horrible thing that had happened tonight - Peter knowing on some level that it happened _every_ night - that there was always some death or some tragedy that he would be either too late or unable to stop.

Peter didn't think about it often, even with everything that he usually faced on patrols - wishing now that it really was as easy as helping cats out of trees and older ladies with directions like half the Avengers seemed to think it was.

He'd seen _awful_ things in the city, had prevented things from happening that sent shivers down his spine at the possibility of what would've happened had he not been there - feeling so much older than sixteen when he really tried to wrap his head around the horrors he faced on a nightly basis.

But it was fine normally, he justified to himself. Peter was always there when he could be - stopping the problem, just in time - over and over again in a way that he now thinks in some ironic, awful way that had lulled him into some sense of security - Brian's blood still stained on his suit a grim reminder that no matter what Peter did, he couldn't save everyone.

His breath catches at that, feeling Tony twitch beside him - his whole posture changing as Peter tries to swallow it down, his vision blurring as he looks towards him.

Peter could guess that Tony had found him because his suit had likely registered that his vitals had gone haywire, that he had no doubt already asked Karen what had happened since he hadn't responded to any of his calls.

He can see the concern in his eyes, the love and the empathy that Peter desperately wants but feels that he doesn't deserve as Tony stares - Peter's shoulders shuddering as he leans forward, Tony immediately wrapping his arms around them.

Peter's grip is sudden and intense - wrapping his arms around Tony's torso as the sobs he's tried so hard to hold in come spilling out, Tony just holding him tighter as Peter's whole body begins to shake, wracked with the guilt and grief of being unable to save Brian - recognizing a feeling that he thinks he'd never truly healed from, the ache he feels in the pit of his stomach old and bruised in a way that he thinks he never _will_.

Tony doesn't say anything, seemingly understanding without Peter having to speak that there's nothing that _could_ be said - nothing that could quell the guilt that Peter feels in this moment, no platitude that could make him feel better.

Peter's glad for it, glad that Tony understands in his own way - his hand rubbing up and down his back soothingly as Peter lets the sobs overwhelm him, burrowing his head in his chest as he allows himself the chance to really feel what he'd tried so hard to contain.

He knows that he'll have to talk to Tony later, that holding all of this in will just build and build just like it had in the months after Ben - the loss of Brian hurting in a different but no less painful way.

He also knows with everything within him, that if it's the last thing he does - he'll find Brian's son Martin and tell him his father's last words.

That he'll tell him that his father loved him and was thinking of him, knowing that it would be painful but that it was even more painful to not know it all - the loss and the not knowing from his own parents ringing in the background.

He even knows that this pain will not lessen, that the loss, the guilt, won't ever fade - that it'll propel him even further, that he'll push himself even harder to never let another Ben or Brian happen again - even understanding on a deeper level that he could do everything he possibly can and he could still lose.

Peter knows all of this but doesn't say any of it just yet, can't really bring himself to think about it.

For now, he just lets Tony hold him - lets the waves of grief wash over him as he cries - wishing that the universe had been kinder to him, wishing that the universe had been kinder to Brian, to Martin.

And promising himself that no matter what happens, Peter would hold on to the nascent, glimmering hope in the back of his mind that even if he couldn't save everyone, that he would never stop trying to.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> [come hang out with me on tumblr.](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com)


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